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“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
I gave her a questioning look. Before I could ask what she meant, she put her hand on my arm.
“I know how fiercely you’ve guarded your heart, but the way you look at her reminds me of the way your father looks at me.”
I pulled my head back some. “Mom, I’m not in love with Georgie. There’s a physical attraction there, sure, but I haven’t seen her in years, and she’s only been here a few weeks.”
My mother’s mouth pressed into a tight line. Then she patted my arm before placing her hand on the side of my face. “I want you to be happy, Blayze. You deserve someone who will make you so unbelievably happy—like your father has for me.”
Even though my mother wasn’t my biological mom, she never once treated me any differently than Morgan and Hunter. In fact, she was probably more protective of me than of my siblings. And I loved her so much for that. She was the only mother I had ever known and the one woman whom I knew would never let me down.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom. And someday it will happen when it’s supposed to happen.”
She nodded. “That day may be sooner than you think, Blayze Shaw. If you’d let down that wall you’ve built. Remember, I now have the mother power.”
Before I had a chance to respond, my father and Georgie appeared.
“There’s my beautiful wife,” Dad said as he leaned down and kissed Mom.
My mother gave Georgie a huge grin. “Georgiana, you are stunning in that dress. And the one you let Morgan wear—my goodness, it’s breathtaking. She said you got it in Paris?”
Georgie nodded in excitement. This was clearly her element. Fashion. Why was she writing for a sports magazine when this topic made her entire face light up?
“I did. During fashion week. I was covering the designer for Vogue.”
“Well, at least you can focus on that now,” Mom said with a laugh.
Georgie drew in a long breath and then exhaled. “Yes.”
What did that mean?
“Over the last few months, I’ve discovered my heart is really more in fashion.”
Dad and Mom both nodded. Okay, then why were we doing this interview if Georgie wasn’t interested in doing sports writing?
“Does your dad do any writing for Sports Monthly anymore?” I asked.
Georgie paused. “My father left the magazine recently. There have been some changes that neither of us are on board with.”
“What kind of changes?” I asked.
She looked directly into my eyes. “The kind I’m not comfortable with.”
I felt myself growing angry. Was someone at the magazine making Georgie do something she didn’t want to do?
“Well, good for you, standing up for what you believe in, Georgiana,” Mom said. “It’s a hard area to break into, especially for women. You showed them you can do it, and you should be proud of that and proud that you stood up for what you thought was right.”
Georgie reached for my mother’s hand. She looked as if she wanted to say so much more. And there was a pained expression on her face.
“Enough of this talk,” Dad said. “How beautiful is all of this for Mom and Dad?”
Mom quickly added, “We had so much fun planning this party. Stella was against it at first. She didn’t want to make a fuss, but after a little bit of pressure, we were able to talk both of them into it.”
Dad smiled as he looked over at Grams and Grandpa dancing. “They both deserve a party to celebrate their love.”
“That they do,” I agreed.
The song changed, and Dad looked at Mom. “Shall we?”
Placing her hand in my father’s, she beamed up at him. “We shall.”
Georgie and I watched them make their way to the dance floor where Dad swept my mother into his arms.
“I want that,” Georgie said softly. “For a man to look at me like that, with such love and admiration.”
My mother’s words came back to me. “The way you look at her reminds me of the way your father looks at me.”
I glanced down at Georgie while she stared at my folks dancing.
“Would you like to dance?” I asked, placing the two glasses I still held on a small table.
“I’d love to dance.”
I took her hand in mine, laced our fingers together, and walked out onto the dance floor.
Drawing her against my body, I couldn’t help but notice how well we fit together. We moved in unison as we danced to a slower song. I pressed my hand tightly against her lower back, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. Our eyes met, and it took everything I had not to kiss her.
When she smiled up at me, something in my chest felt like it cracked open. I wasn’t about to try and figure out what in the hell was happening. I wasn’t going to think about how my heart felt like it was beating three times harder in my chest. Or how I wanted to ask her to go back to my house and spend the rest of the night in bed. The need to explore her body and learn what she liked nearly had me losing my mind, and I was unable to think clearly.
